


Lest I Tell the World What Man Thou Art

by meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Will (TV 2017)
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, Extortion, Gen, Kit doesn't care if he's called a deviant but the authorities will, Past Relationship(s), Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 21:04:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15894117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: For the trope bingo prompt "blackmail/extortion". When Kit receives a threatening letter, he turns to Will - and Richard - for assistance. Short piece showing a bit of Kit's character and his friendship with Will and Richard.





	Lest I Tell the World What Man Thou Art

**Author's Note:**

> The title is paraphrased from Shakespeare's "Measure for Measure" line _I’ll tell the world aloud_  
>  What man thou art

"I'm being threatened," Kit said and that made Will put aside his quill.

Kit had wandered into the theatre several minutes ago, made an off-hand comment about last night's play, mentioned the weather, and complained he was stuck for a particular phrase to accurately convey the depth of feeling in his latest work. Will, busy scribbling down some bawdy dialogue for his own current project and had made noises of agreement and sympathy as required until Kit's sudden declaration.

"What do you mean?" Will asked.

Kit gave an expressive shrug. "I have had a letter," he said, moving to sit opposite Will. "In it, the writer claims to have proof of my deviancy and that, if I do not meet their demands, they will inform the authorities and I shall be hanged."

"Kit!" Will was understandably horrified.

"I am a deviant. I take men to my bed. You know this," Kit said. "As do others, and even more suspect. The question is, what proof can anyone have, and who would dare to threaten me?"

"I have no idea." Will considered for a moment. "The who, you would better deduce than I. As for the proof; a personal account?"

"That would put them in danger of the fate they taunt me with."

Will frowned. "Something personal of yours, given as a gift to a lover, or stolen whilst they were in your bedchamber?"

Kit nodded with approval. "That is a possibility. The latter, more than the former. I do not frequently bestow gifts."

Putting aside that, Will asked, "What does the letter writer want from you?"

"Money. The simplest of motives. More than I can reasonably afford at this time," Kit said. "I have a plan however and I would like your help. I would ask Thomas, but he is away and I cannot await his return. I am required to pay this – this ransom – on Friday evening."

Will leant forward. "Of course I will help. I can loan you a little money."

"Oh no," Kit said. "That's not the plan at all."

*

On Friday, a cold, wet night, Will stood in a doorway opposite the church, shivering. He was draped in a tattered cloak, like a beggar, and his disguise was making sure passersby did pass by without a second glance.

Richard, who they'd roped in at Will's suggestion, was having fun studying the church windows, scratching at his fake beard and occasionally adjusting his glasses.

Kit had taken the purse, filled with low value coins and scraps of paper rather than the amount demanded of him, inside the church a few minutes ago. The clock would strike the hour soon, marking the time which the letter had specified.

The church bells rang. Kit exited the church, eyes downcast as if ashamed. Richard blinked as if startled by the clock, and hobbled inside the church.

Will peered across the street, watching for anyone approaching the door. Kit joined him a few moments later, having doubled back around the corner, cloak pulled up to shield his face.

"Anyone suspicious?"

"Not yet," Will murmured. "Anyone in the church?"

"Not that I could see, unless the letter writer is a either a rather elderly woman or the child who sat squirming next to her while she prayed."

They waited, the drizzle easing a little. Then came a cry and two figures darted out from the church, a lithe figure in a dark hat being pursued by Richard, who was no longer pretending to hobble.

"Stop, stop," Richard bellowed, which would draw more attention than they'd like; Will would just have to make sure the man they were now all pursuing didn't have chance to open his mouth if any citizens decided to join the chase. Kit was already sprinting after them.

Will took a risk, and a shortcut, and when he came back around, rather more wet as he'd stepped in a puddle in one of the unlit and narrow alleys, he was just in time to stick out an arm and catch the man in his throat.

Kit and Richard, panting a little, were only seconds behind and they surrounded the man who stood, clutching at his throat and gasping. Kit peered at him, pulling off the hat.

"George," he said. "Oh dear."

George wheezed some more.

"Why, George?" Kit asked.

George shook his head. "Need. Money," he gasped. "Debt."

Kit sighed. "You might have asked."

"Too. Much. No-one. Would. Pay. One. Night we had. Too much to ask of you."

"Still," Kit said. "I might have offered to assist. There was really no call to threaten me as you did."

"What is your proof?" Will asked, arms folded.

George hung his head. "Took. This." He reached in his pocket and the other men tensed, in case it was a weapon, Richard reaching out to grab his arm if necessary. But George pulled out a brooch.

Kit took it. "Ah. Mine, yes. My initials are on this. Not conclusive proof, but enough perhaps for someone determined to harm me to make a case."

"I'd not have gone to the authorities," George said, still rubbing at his throat. "It was an idle threat, Christopher. I just needed money."

Kit sighed. "Who are you in debt to?"

George told him. Richard paled. Will frowned, not knowing the name. Kit waved one hand airily.

"You are an idiot," Kit said. "I long ago came to an understanding with that ruffian. I shall speak to him on your behalf. Your debt cannot be wiped out, but I can mitigate it and ask for more time for you. And," he pressed the brooch into George's hand, "you can sell this. Awful thing anyway, I never wear it. A gift from someone I'd rather forget. It should pay off a sizeable portion of your debt."

George and Will stared at Kit. "Why?" George asked.

"Because I remember that night with fondness," Kit said. "And I have been in difficult situations and needed assistance, and therefore feel obliged to offer clemency, on occasion. But so help me God if you ever think to try something like this again."

"Never," George swore. "God bless you!"

"I doubt He shall," Kit dryly. "Now, go. Before I change my mind."

Richard shook his head as George ambled away. "All that and you let him go?"

"He's more afraid of being beaten over his debts than anything I can do," Kit said. "And it was a rather good night."

There was silence for a moment. Then Kit threw his arms around Will and Richard's shoulders. "Come. I owe you both my thanks. Let us go drinking!" 

No-one disagreed.


End file.
